The Night Before Christmas
by PetPetAngel
Summary: Who hates Christmas? Why no one of course. But this year, jolly ol' Santa ain't the ONLY giftgiving source. [SLASH COSMOTIMMY]


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The Night Before Christmas

Written by:

PetPetAngel

Dedication: My good friend _Leslie_ for just bein' my friend and overall good person I know.

Pairing: Cosmo/Timmy

Warnings: Slash, swearing.

Disclaimer: All following characters are sole property to Butch Hartman. I put no claim on them and am not getting any profit from this except something to use up all my non-existant spare time. XD;;;

Summary: Who hates Christmas? Why, no one of course. But this year, jolly ol' Santa ain't the _only_ gift-giving source.

Notes: This was a little awkward... Cause I'm Jewish and I'm writing a Christmas fic... XD;;; Oh well. **_Happy Holidays!_**

-

Cosmo's awake, just while the barest hints of light are peaking through Timmy's closed curtains. He paces the room quietly, feeling a chill brush his bare arms, regretting that he hadn't stole a blanket or two from either Wanda or maybe Timmy. He mumbles something about how Timmy's parents should _really_ fix the heater because it seems as if they have to heat _it_ before it'll heat them. _Stupid lazy heater._

Cosmo stares with a slightly wistful look towards Timmy's bed, then towards the fishbowl, wishing he could get a blink of shut-eye before Christmas. But that was exactly why he was _out_ of the fishbowl - there was no way he would be able to sleep in it. He tries thinking nice thoughts (not that that gets him too far, anyway) he tries counting sheep. He tries to think of the grossest things he could think of (which turns out to be a tie between Chester kissing Sanjay and Timmy kissing Crocker, what with the latter being mostly horror, he supposes).

But he just cannot not fall asleep. No matter how appealing it looks to jump in bed and snuggle with Timmy, Cosmo worries that it may scare the boy just a _little_ bit too much. But still, he does not stop himself from glancing hopefully at the bed, eyes drifting all over Timmy, resting peacefully in bed. _You're such a pervert,_ he thinks, _but I suppose it comes with old age. At least I can keep in the nosebleeds. _He could still remember what happened to Doris' carpet with that 'Willy' fellow._ All the magic in the world could not save that carpet._

So Cosmo just sits and waits and eventually decides to get dressed. Dressing never seemed to be so hard before, _but I suppose it's because all I have to stare at in there is Wanda, no Timmy anywhere._ He blatantly ignores the buldge in his pants, just barely hoping that it will go down by the time Timmy or Wanda wakes up. But sitting on the chair by Timmy's desk, staring at Timmy in bed, does not seem to be helping the not so little problem.

Cosmo pokes absentmindedly at the little lump in his breast-pocket, hoping that he will not chicken out later tonight when the present will come to good use. _Well, **hopefully** good use. Or, he might just end up pelting it at me or screaming, but those are the less preferable results._ Voting whole-heartedly for choice 'A' seems rather pointless when there is no point to wishing anything at that moment.

_Oh that is rich. Fairy godparent doing the wishing. _Cosmo does a lot of wishing, actually. But none of his wishes can be granted by Wanda, by Juandissimo, even by Timmy. Well, they could be... But not quite _literally._ But Cosmo does do a lot of wishing, even though a lot of wishing for a fairy more qualifies as a wish here and there, Cosmo cannot bring himself to admit that he wishes for it everyday, everynight, fruitlessly, he knows. But it's a little strange to admit you're so desperate for something that you can never have.

_Soap opera,_ is his only thought. That is exactly what his thoughts are becoming, a stupid, over-dramatic 'realistic' (ha! He doesn't have to be real if he doesn't want to, and he _certainly_ doesn't have to be realistic, that's for sure) soap operas that either catch your attention and suck you in or make you fall asleep with no regret. Cosmo listens carefully for snores coming from the 'audience' (God, heh, Jorgen, blech) and laughs at himself silently when of course, there is no snoring.

Cosmo feels as if his life really _is_ becoming one though. Not just _like_ one, but just one of them. He feels as if he's the main character, married, falling in love with someone who he is 'forbidden' to have (in more ways than one). But Cosmo is already having doubts of what he's planned, there's Wanda and then _oh dear **god**_ there was Mama Cosma. Cosmo isn't quite sure his heart could take it to have her wrath inflicted on Timmy. He almost laughs at the thought, but the smile turns somber rather quickly.

Cosmo looks down to glance at his pants and is almost, in a freakish sort of way, happy to see that all his depressing thoughts have been the biggest help in dealing with his buldge. _I'd never forgive myself if I had to jerk-off,_ he thinks, and the thought itself already brings color to his face - whether from embarrassment or shame he isn't really sure. Perhaps a cross between both? Heh, probablly. Again, Cosmo thinks, _perverted old man._

_Oh well._ But soon Cosmo is almost thinking _Oopsies,_ and he can't help but smile at that.

It really _was_ a big _huge_ 'oopsies' but Cosmo can't bring himself to mind. _It's not **my** fault I got stuck with such a good-looking god-kid. Stupid Jorgen making me have a hard on. That bastard._ But in his own way, Timmy really _was_ good looking, with his chocolate hair (that Cosmo had begin to notice was turning into looking a lot more like his than before, a bit more unruly if possible), his bright blue eyes (that seemed somewhat green-tinged in the sunlight), his fair, unmarred skin (one of the few god-kids so far not to suffer acne yet, horrid stuff that was) and his simple (never quite over-done) attire.

Cosmo hears a little groan and the sound of rustling sheets, and his eyes _fly_ to the bed just in time to catch a glimpse of pink pajamas under deep blue blankets. Then for a moment through his thinking, Cosmo realizes that the only reason he's worrying is because _It's_ _Christmas Eve you moron._ Cosmo resists hitting himself and gets up from his chair (once more making sure that his remaining 'problem' still isn't too noticeable, _Don't think about his **skin**! That's the **last** thing you think about to get rid of that sort of 'problem'!)_ heading over towards Timmy's bed to watch the still half-asleep preteen struggle back into the land of dreams (where he'd probably like to stay).

Cosmo decides that his problem has gone away enough (if not close to entirely) to be able to walk closer to the slumbering boy, and as he stands next to the said bed, he pokes in his pocket to take out Phillip. Phillip has _always_ brought him luck in some way or another, for which was part of the reason Cosmo would never spend Phillip. She is a very special nickel, and sometimes offers comfort in some very, _very_ strange way that Cosmo is sure that no one (not even himself) will ever understand.

Cosmo thinks that maybe he just likes to play with his hands, to keep them occupied (don't want 'em scurrying away to _other_ _places_, now do we?) long enough. Cosmo takes a risk as he sits down carefully on Timmy's bed, certain that if he were to make any sort of movement (jerky or not), he would not disrupt the boy's sleep. His wings are dangerously close to the boy's side, and as they brush accidently Cosmo finds himself shivering a bit from the pleasure. _Stupid wings being so sensitive._

Cosmo thinks back to the time that Crocker had caught Wanda. Those cursed butterfly nets. Cosmo knows that the reason that fairies all hate butterfly nets so much is that A) they, for some reason, are not effected by magic, and B) are extremely uncomfortable for a fairy of any size. Because fairy wings are so sensitive, the constriction (_Wanda Word of the day_, Cosmo thinks) of the movement of magic makes a not-so-friendly pressure against them. Cosmo hates fairies weaknesses, because they always seem so _absurd_ (_Oh c'mon! Twice in a row!_) that it's almost _embarrassing_ to admit them as a weakness.

Again, Timmy stirs in bed and this time, instead of having the feeling of running away (which is still there of course, just not as compelling) he reaches a hand out to play lightly with one of the strands of hair that have fallen gently into his face. Timmy's breath tickles at his hand, breath lingering and causing Cosmo to tremble helplessly to himself. "...Cosmo..." Cosmo's breath catches in his throat at the sound of the breathy whisper coming from Timmy.

_Is he dreaming of me?_ Cosmo realizes after a moment that he is not breathing. "Cosmo..." Cosmo is slightly alarmed at Timmy murmuring his name in his sleep, not that he's entirely minding it, but it's still quite a shock. _He's... He's dreaming about me! About **me!** Oh my god... My god-child is dreaming about me... Not about Wanda... About me... Wow._ Cosmo is screaming at himself to calm down.

But calming down seems horrendously out of reach to Cosmo as Timmy places a hand on Cosmo's (that had somehow snaked its way down to rest over Timmy's heart) mumbling again. Still, somehow in a sleep-like state, Timmy sits up to wrap his arms around Cosmo's neck, who stiffens immediately. His problem comes back (luckily not _too_ horribly) and his arms fly out to avoid touching Timmy's sleeping form. "T-T-Timmy!" Timmy does not respond for a moment, then...

"You... Make a good pillow." Cosmo takes a sharp intake of breath as the boy comes to settle gently in his lap, resting his head at the junction in his shoulder, breathing steadily into the crook of his neck. _Well, shit._ Cosmo shakes slightly as he wraps his arms securely around the boy, focussing more on self-restraint and control than the warmth that Timmy is sending through his body and up and down his spine. _Well... This is gonna be... interesting._

Though Cosmo is more troubled about what will happen when Timmy wakes up, he can't help but at least enjoy holding him somewhat. He burrows his face into Timmy's hair, enjoying the sweet smell of the warm boy. _You don't know how priceless you are, do you, Timmy? You don't realize just how much we, no, **I** love you, do you? No, of course you don't. After a few thousands years (five, to be exact) of being married to do Wanda... I realized for **certain** that she was not the one for me. _

_She agreed that we were not meant for each other. _Cosmo assured himself._ That she was more motherly or sisterly than really... Wife-ish. She knew it and so did I. And then she found someone new... But I was not as lucky. _"But I have now... In you. It's just sad that I can't have you... Ya know? I can't have you, no matter how much I love you and no matter how much I want you. But maybe it's better for the both of us... Maybe..."

**_Soap opera._**

_It's not fair,_ Cosmo thinks to himself. Over his initial shock caused by Timmy, he now cradles his godchild over his shoulder as a mother might her upset child (_Cosma and Wando,_ he snorts quietly at the thought). Timmy's arms rest barely above his wings, another little turn on that might eventually turn him crazy. _You watch too many movies with him,_ he thinks. _But it just may be true enough, unfortunately._

What seems as if only a few moments later, but Cosmo knows has actually been quite a while, Timmy shifts and Cosmo knows that he is waying, if not slowly, up. "...Cosmo?" Cosmo does nothing more than secure Timmy more tightly in his arms, intent on relishing these last few moments of holding the lithe body of his god-child tightly against his own, and he reasons with himself that it's only his imagination when he hears Timmy gasp.

"Good morning sleepy-head." Timmy smiles and pulls away from him (though Cosmo takes note that his hands are still holding onto his waist), and locks eyes with him. Cosmo keeps the smile on his face even though inside his stomach is churning, heard doing flips and kicks into his throat. Green eyes lock with blue, and Cosmo feels his heart skip a beat - if just for a mere moment. Timmy's eyes keep him in place until he feels as if he cannot move at all (not that he entirely wants to, but rather he's afraid of what he may do if he does not move).

"I'm.. Gonna go back to sleep. 'Kay?" Cosmo nods stiffly, full-out restraining himself to kiss Timmy to smithereens and to oblivion and back. _Stupid Da Rules, stupid life, stupid age, stupid me, stupid feelings, stupid, stupid, stupid._ He smiles for Timmy's sake, and hides how he shakes when the boy places his head back on his shoulder and when his hands brush his wings again, but Timmy could never miss how Cosmo's head leans back in a silent moan. "...Cosmo? You okay?"

_Fuck. I hear worry. Damn it. Shit._ Cosmo wrenches his eyes open and prays that there isn't any lust in them (if just to worry that Timmy could actually define lust in his eyes to begin with). "...Yes, I'm fine. Sorry if that worried you. Fairy wings are sensitive." Timmy leans back and sits cross-legged on the floor, staring at Cosmo with an unending amount curiousity. Cosmo isn't sure whether he likes that spark in Timmy's eyes, but he continues to smile in assurance, whether or not he needs it.

"Good-sensitive?" Cosmo thinks about it for a moment and nods slowly, thinking. _I mean, I guess it could be good. In bed, maybe. Now that I think of it, Wanda avoids touching my wings. Just entirely avoids them, just as I do hers. I wonder what it would feel like..._ "Can I touch 'em?" Cosmo stares at his secret crush for a moment, wondering if that would be so good of an idea. _Well, it's obviously pleasurable... Maybe **too** pleasureable? Is there such a thing?_

"Uh... Sure, why not." _Uh, lesse... Okay, you're probably gonna end up saying or showing **way too much!**_ Despite the warnings in his mind, Cosmo gets comfortable on Timmy's bed and the ten year-old curiously reaches to his wings. Cosmo's wings twitch as Timmy begins to lightly brush them with the back of his hand. Soon, they are fluttering rapidly and Cosmo is lost in a world that seems filled to the brim with pure bliss. Timmy continues (_probably just because of curiousity, though,_ Cosmo manages to think with some disappointment) and only stops when Cosmo has the oddest expression he's seen on him in a while.

_Ecstasy._ Cosmo grips the sheets underneath him so tightly that his knuckles go white. Perspiration gathers on his brow, mouth slightly open and breathing irratic and heavy. _Oh shit._ Cosmo's thoughts go into a frenzy but he finds it hard to focus on any one of them as Timmy seems to find it entertaining to see how far he can go until Cosmo will tell him to stop. _Tell him to stop you moron!_ Cosmo sends warning signs all over his brain but all he does is grip the sheets even more tightly.

"...Don't stop..."

An emotional wave of electricity continues to shoot through him in ripples, and Cosmo shakes with pleasure. _Shit. You fucking moron tell him to stop that before you fucking rape him right here and now._ But Cosmo can't get himself to do it. _It's been so long since I've felt this good._ Cosmo shakes again, opening and closing his mouth like a fish out of water until he finally manages, "T-Timmy... No-" a groan "-more." Obediently (Cosmo thinks that's a _terrible_ word to refer to Timmy with), Timmy stops his actions and stares at his God-Father curiously.

Slowly, the pleasure ebbs away from him and Cosmo can open his eyes again, only to meet slightly startled crystinlline blue ones."Cosmo... Are you okay?" Cosmo nods slowly, still gathering together his wit and self-control (not really sure whether he's really succeeded in gathering either). "Are you sure?" He nods again and sits straight up, unsure when he had leaned so far back into Timmy's gentle touch. "Did... Did I do something wrong?"

"No," he starts unsurely. "You're good." _You sneaky little... I can't believe I'm in love with a **little boy.**_ "You're fine. I'm fine. Wanda's fine. Phillip's fine, too. Yeah, she's doin' fine." Though it is meant to calm his distressed god-child, it only seems to worry him further."It's _fine,_ Timmy, really." Using his first name is seemingly helpful in calming Timmy down, Cosmo notices. _Oh dear god help me live through this one. I could be stuck with him forever! ...I don't know whether or not to be thankful._

Cosmo whimpers at his thoughts and tries to push the rest of his not so 'clean' thoughts out of his head. "Cosmo!" Cosmo opens his eyes again and forgets when he had closed them before. He sighs and smiles again at Timmy, gesturing welcomingly to his lap. Timmy shakes his head no. "In my bed." Cosmo's eyes widen considerably but he hides his shock (and anxiety, too) as best as he can manage.

Timmy's body heat next to him does not make it easy.

-

"Timmy?"

_Don't back out,_ Cosmo hisses in his mind, _coward._ Cosmo stands behind his god-child nervously, resisting the urge to poke at his breast-pocket again. As Timmy turns to him, Cosmo feels like wincing, insides churning, cracking his knuckles in bad habit and then reaching for Phillip. "Yeah?" He calms down a little bit at Timmy's voice (_has he always been able to do that?_) and smiles at him, albeit a small smile.

"Can I talk to you?" Again, Timmy smiles up at him, his full faith and trust in him, and this time Cosmo _does_ wince. _Shut up you pussy._ He gets a nod in return from Timmy, curt smile still on his face and widening by the second. Cosmo takes Timmy by the shoulders and makes him sit on his bed, staring curiously with questioning eyes. "Do you know how fairies are made, Timmy?" It's an awkward start to _any_ conversation really, but it seems particularly so as for the proposal that will soon follow it.

"No. Isn't it like us?"

"Uh, no." Cosmo blushes a little bit at the thought of that, remembering the pain-filled moments when his mother had tried (and eventually succeeded) to explain how human children were born. Cosmo smiles, _I never asked another question like that for a **very** long time. _"It's actually _really_ different. Fairies are born when bad things happen to children. Children who never got to live out their childhood turn into fairies." Cosmo looks down at Timmy with an unreadable expression on his face.

"Like Wanda... How did she die again...? Oh, yes. Her human father wasn't really 'friendly' towards her. It's always a painful thing for most fairies to talk about. You know. I... Well, luckily, I didn't go through as much as Wanda. I just got hit by a car. It was pretty quick." Cosmo closes his eyes at the bitter memory, heart stinging a little bit at the memory. Cosmo sat next to Timmy, forgetting when the boy had drawn his knees to his chest.

Staring at his feet, Timmy asks, "Why are you telling me this now?"

Instead of answering his question, Cosmo goes on quietly. "There's another way too. With this." Cosmo takes out from his breast pocket a small black velvet box and explains quietly. "Every fairy is promised two of these." Cosmo opens the box and presents it carefully to Timmy, finally turning to face his surprised god-child. "With this, after a child or person dies, they are automatically sent to Fairy-World to find the fairy who gave it to them." Cosmo takes a deep breath.

"I want to give this one to you." Timmy's head shoots up to meet his god-father's calm green eyes. "Why? Why not!" Cosmo lets out a soft chuckle, but his eyes soon back to their previous, serious state. "Because you're just the god-child I've always wanted. When you stop believing in us, I don't want it to be the last time I see you." Timmy opens his mouth to argue, but Cosmo raises his hand, and he falls quiet. "It happens to the best of us." Timmy shakes his head sadly in protest, but it is weak.

"I don't know what to say."

"Say yes."

Instead, Timmy offers Cosmo a peck on the cheek, and Cosmo holds him close.

"Merry Christmas, Timmy."

-

_"Spending Christmas with you is like spendning Christmas in love."_


End file.
